End
"May I call you a cab, sir?" the doorman queried as Rocky stepped from the hotel lobby into the cool San Francisco evening air.
"No thanks... I'm not going too far," the former Zeo Ranger replied. And besides, he thought, I'd probably chicken out if I had to give the driver the address.
He set out nervously, the events of the afternoon replaying in his mind. Being asked to judge at the Regional Martial Arts Finals was a great honor, not to mention a wonderful bit of promotion for his new karate school. It had also given him the opportunity to hobnob with some of the more influential martial artists and educators in the state, and to make some new friends as well. Alan, a fellow judge, had shown Rocky the ropes during the morning session, and then during lunch, he had offered to show Rocky around his dojo after the afternoon competitions. Rocky had found Alan easygoing and friendly --a lot like Jason, he reflected. He had eagerly accepted his invitation.
Alan's school was closed during the one-day competition. Rocky followed him around the quiet building, sharing stories and plans for his own business back in Angel Grove, when suddenly Alan turned, drew Rocky into a gentle embrace, and began nibbling at his lips. For a moment, Rocky had felt unbalanced. Even though Alan's arms held him securely, he seemed to be spinning, toppling. He found himself returning the kiss, enjoying the delicate sensuality of the moment --memories of past encounters with his male teammates flooded his mind even as his cock surged and throbbed against his new friend's loins.
Alan had pulled back, a question in his smiling eyes. "I've been wanting to do that ever since I met you this morning," he said, a bit breathlessly. "I have a bedroom upstairs. Would you be interested...?"
For a moment, Rocky had been very interested. No, he corrected himself, not just for a moment! He hadn't been with another man since leaving the Rangers, and so far he had always had Kat to help him through the dregs. He hadn't even thought about sex with another guy in ages, but Alan's invitation had been very, very tempting. "I'm sorry... but I can't," he had finally replied. "I'm engaged... she'd understand, but I just don't think I can do this without her knowledge, and right now she's studying ballet in London." Alan just sighed longingly, then continued with the tour, but as Rocky was about to leave, he had swooped in for one more kiss, and then stuffed a slip of paper deep into Rocky's shirt pocket. "Just in case...." Alan whispered.
Rocky had retreated from Alan's studio in a state of confusion... and extreme horniness. Oh for the days when I could teleport right into Adam's pants, he had mused as he hailed a cab back to his hotel. He wasn't frightened by the fact that he was apparently still attracted to other guys, but he was surprised. If only there were something he could do about it. The more his thoughts had dwelled on the softness of Alan's lips, the taut muscles beneath his white cotton shirt as they had embraced, the more Rocky regretted his refusal to play. If only he could get in touch with Adam or Billy or Jason. If only Kat wasn't a continent and an ocean away. If only he could at least touch another warm body.... Then, he had glanced out the cab window. Only a few blocks from his hotel, on an otherwise perfectly respectable street, he saw a discreetly lit marquee:
Now, two hours later as he trudged up the hill, Rocky smiled wryly to himself. How his former teammates would tease him if they ever found out about this little outing! He had talked himself out of going a dozen times during dinner, but the memory of Alan's advances, not to mention the phone number he had jammed into Rocky's pocket and the feel of his fingertips just brushing his nipple, had the former Ranger worked up into an almost spike-like state of excitement. Besides, Rocky mused as he turned a corner and caught sight of his destination, there's nothing wrong with a little night-time excursion up on the roof, is there?
After riding an elevator to the top floor, Rocky found himself in a small lobby. A friendly man with a Schwartznegerian build and Betty Davis eyes collected his cover fee, then directed him through a set of heavily carved wooden doors. He opened them and stepped into a narrow, dimly lit hallway. Music pulsed and pounded behind a curtained doorway at the corridor's end. As he walked nervously toward the sound, Rocky passed several other doors --glancing in one, he saw that it led to a small booth. A window in the opposite wall disclosed a large shower room. A longhaired man was sensuously soaping his body and playing with his cock --he seemed to be performing for the occupants in the other booths up and down the corridor. As Rocky stood, momentarily transfixed by the delicious spectacle, the man looked up and smiled right at him. For an instant, he looked so like Tommy that Rocky flushed a bright red and quickly moved away down the corridor.
Get a hold of yourself! he chided, abruptly pausing to catch his breath and compose himself. If that was really Tommy back there, he'd have a lot more explaining to do than I would. Suddenly feeling that he was being watched, Rocky turned and found himself staring at a gallery of portraits on the opposite wall. Right at eye level, a glossy photo of the dancer he had just seen smiled at the camera. Next to it, another picture showed a naked man reclining on his back, his legs flung over his head and the tip of his enormous phallus lodged between his own lips. All right! Rocky smirked. These are my kind of people! He strode bravely through the beaded curtain and into the show lounge.
He had been expecting some kind of club with tables and chairs and a bar. Instead, the lounge actually resembled a small movie theater. Rows of seats, with extra wide spaces between them, sloped down to a stage with a short runway. Colored mirrors lined the walls and ceiling, reflecting the soft lighting and giving the room an ethereal glow. Rocky chose a seat halfway down and sat on the aisle. He barely had time to glance around at the sparsely populated room when the music increased in volume and a young man stepped onto the stage. He wore only a pair of red silky boxers and white ankle socks. As the heavy bass began throbbing, the dancer suggestively thrust his hips back and forth and lightly ran his hands up and down his bare chest, teasing his nipples. Rocky watched as he strutted out onto the runway, turned, and then with a swift bow, pulled his boxers down and kicked them away. When he pivoted back to face the audience, Rocky gulped. Even seated a good 15 feet away and in the dim glow, he could tell that dancing wasn't the guy's only gift.
He should've been a Power Ranger. He's sure got the heroic' proportions!
The audience was allowed only a short glimpse of the dancer's cock. Once again he turned his back, and his hands glided around to caress the firm globes of his ass, then smoothed down the backs of his thighs. Slowly, he knelt until his hips were thrust high into the air and his face was pressed to the wooden stage. His knees parted and his ass swayed, and then, as the music swelled, he suddenly spun until he was sitting facing the seats. He spread his legs in a wide vee, his toes pointed out and up, and ran hands up and down the length of his taut thighs. As amazing as the maneuver had been, something Rocky had only ever seen Kim or her gymnast friends accomplish, the sight of the dancer's cock resting full and thick against his flat stomach drew all of Rocky's attention. The man stood up, smiled out at his audience, and then began to caress his phallus, one hand pulling it to hardness as the other cupped and rolled his balls. His eyes flashed a horny and inviting gaze out over the seats even as his cock rose and jutted out from within his encircling fingers. He slapped the solid rod against his other palm, then stepped from the runway and out into the aisle running up the middle of the theater.
Rocky watched in surprise as the dancer moved toward the men seated in the first rows. One after the other, he approached them, stroking his cock and thrusting his hips in time to the sensuous Latin beat of the music. He allowed one of the men to rest a hand on his hip, but when the excited patron eagerly reached for the dancer's balls, the young man just shook his head, smiled, and move on to the next seat. A couple of times Rocky saw him return a fleeting caress, and once he even bent down to kiss the cheek of an older, well-dressed gentleman, but always he moved away whenever the contact started to heat up. Rocky heard him laughing and murmuring with a college-aged Asian man sitting directly across the aisle, and then, finally, the dancer moved toward his seat. Rocky gulped nervously. He had expected to sit back and just watch the show from a distance, but it looked as though he would at least get a close-up look at the hot naked stud he had been ogling, and maybe even the longed-for chance for a brief caress.
The dancer approached Rocky's seated form and smiled. For a moment he just stood there, gently stroking himself, and Rocky had the distinct impression that suddenly he was the one being ogled.
"Hi, my name's Michael. Your first time here, right?" Although the music was blasting through the small theater, the man's voice seemed soft and inviting, almost a whisper, and suddenly Rocky felt like he and Michael were the only ones in the room. He nodded, tried to answer, then blushed as nothing but a squeak came out. Michael laughed, the sound warm and tempting and sexy, and Rocky felt himself melting.
Michael stepped closer until he was able to lean against the seat back in front of Rocky. He stretched out his lean dancer's legs and pumped his cock, never losing his smile and never taking his eyes from Rocky's blushing face. "Don't worry," he said. "Everyone's a little nervous their first time here." He brushed his fingertips over his nipples, then drew one of his fingers into his mouth, slowly sucking, holding Rocky's gaze. Rocky watched Michael fellating his finger, watched his full, soft lips still seeming to smile even as they pulled and sucked at the digit. His gaze traveled down Michael's body --his hard, bronze chest, lightly covered with soft brown hair... the broad, stiff nipples... shimmering droplets of sweat trailing down his flat stomach... and finally the full, meaty cock bobbing just inches before Rocky's face.
Hearing a low moan, Rocky glanced up to find Michael staring at him with a mischievous, hungry sparkle in his eyes. He had ceased licking and nibbling at his own fingers, and now, leaning slightly forward, he reached out to touch Rocky's lips, then skimmed his fingertips down Rocky's chest to take the former Ranger's hand in his own. "Please," Michael whispered, "Help me out with this?" He placed Rocky's hand firmly on his naked rod and pumped his hips.
For an instant, Rocky froze. He glanced around, afraid that some burly bouncer would grab him and toss him unceremoniously out the door, but all he saw were the horny, envious looks of the other patrons. The cock in his hand surged, growing harder. It felt so good, so warm and fleshy and full. Rocky's rusty Ranger reflexes kicked into action --when handed a weapon, he had never been afraid to use it, and when presented with an organ of Jasonian dimensions, he wasn't about to let it go untried. He locked eyes with Michael, fixing him with a hungry, and somewhat grateful, look, and then began to move his hand up and down the length of the dancer's pulsing tool.
Rocky saw Michael's eyes flutter shut, his head loll back --his full lips parted in an "oh," and the low, rumbling moan of pleasure gave Rocky the courage to explore the rest of the gorgeous body with his free hand. He fondled Michael's hip, then slid his fingers up and down the muscular thigh. The firm flesh felt so different from Kat's silky-smooth softness, and Rocky once again fell in love with the feel of a hard, lean male body writhing beneath his touch. He continued his exploration upwards, over the hard abs and sweaty chest, sweeping up to caress the firm biceps, then down until he could entwine his fingers with Michael's, holding his hand even as he vigorously handled his cock.
Michael gave Rocky's hand a squeeze, then placed it firmly back onto his naked chest. "Touch me some more," he panted. "For the next few minutes, I'm yours to play with."
Rocky licked his lips. He pinched and fondled the dancer's nipples until Michael's body was undulating solely to Rocky's caresses, the hard-driving music almost forgotten in the bliss of the former Ranger's knowing hands. Rocky cupped Michael's balls in his palm, gently rolling them, them tugging and pulling at the sac even as he gripped the thick cock and jerked with hard, determined tugs. Holding the dancer's balls in a firm grip, he bent the phallus down until the meaty mushroom tip was barely a hand's breadth from his lips. His thumb caressed the slick, satin-skinned glans, and he was delighted to find a glistening drop of pre-come welling up from the slit. He licked his lips again, and as one hand slid around Michael's body to pinch the fleshy globes of his ass and wander in and out of the deep cleft with sure, feathery strokes of his fingertips, Rocky's yearning got the best of his restraint. He opened his mouth wide and prepared to take the swollen cock deep into his throat.
Michael's hand caught Rocky's chin, his thumb briefly tangling with Rocky's tongue before he raised the former Ranger's face and looked with apologetic lust deep into his eyes. "No, no," Michael whispered. "We can't do that here... damn it! I bet you'd be a great cocksucker." He smiled, then leaned in closer to Rocky. "Use both hands on my ass!"
Although his mouth ached to feel the fullness of Michael's cock, Rocky obliged. He took two handfuls of the dancer's perfect round butt and squeezed, then began to explore the firm flesh with gusto. Meanwhile, Michael had resumed pumping and toying with his rod. He slapped its firmness against his palm, then reached down to loosen the top buttons of Rocky's shirt. His fingers slid inside, and Rocky's flesh quivered at the hot touch, then he groaned as first one nipple, then the other was brought to life by Michael's firm, electric pinches. Now Rocky's eyes closed, his head rolled back, his fingers delved deeper into the wiggling, inviting ass. The sweaty, musky smell of the dancer's excitement was a heady essence which sent Rocky's senses whirling back to his Ranger days when he had been enveloped in the strong, heaving embrace of his male lovers. Rocky opened his eyes, almost expecting --hoping-- to find Jason or Adam or Tommy smiling lustfully back at him. Instead, he found himself staring up into the stranger's face.
With a regretful moan, Michael pulled away. Rocky's fingers lingered on the curve of the dancer's hips, wanting, needing, to pull him back, to make love to him. But Michael only leaned down to nuzzle Rocky's neck, and then whisper in his ear with hot, breathy pants: "I have to work all night... but you can have me for breakfast if you're still around." His teeth gently tugged at Rocky's sensitive earlobe. "Watch me when I get back to the stage. I'll be thinking about you!" Rocky shuddered, then moaned in surprise as Michael planted a gentle kiss on his lips. He kissed back, wanting at least a small taste of the sexy young man. Michael's lips parted, and for just a moment, the tip of his tongue met Rocky's in a brief, intimate dance. Then he moved away.
Rocky watched the dancer's round ass swaying as he worked his way back to the stage. Once there, Michael turned to face the audience, then, fixing Rocky with a hard, hungry stare, he began to handle his cock, his movements growing in speed and enthusiasm, his groans filling the small theater, drowning out the pounding music, until at last his cock jerked and pulsed and shot stream after pearly stream. He continued pumping and playing and moaning until his phallus began to soften, then rubbed his come-sticky fingers over his nipples, gave a Rocky one last dazzling smile, and with a tantalizing swing to his hips, disappeared behind the curtain. Rocky was left dazed, drooling, and very, very hard.
An hour later, Rocky lay naked, sprawled across the bed back in his hotel room. Michael's offer had been so tempting --he still felt the warm, wet play of tongues as the sexy young dancer had kissed him there in the darkened theater-- but he had an early flight to catch, and besides, he knew that unlike Allen's attempted seduction, Michael's words had been more fantasy than actual invitation. Rocky absently fondled his come-heavy balls and stroked his still-swollen rod, a look of hesitation on his face. Then, coming to a decision, he quickly reached for the phone.
"Hello?" a friendly female voice answered at the other end.
"Hey Tanya, it's Rocky. Put Adam on the phone, would you? . . . Oh, and by the way, make sure he has a box of tissues handy. I have a proposition for him."
He heard Tanya giggle, then a pause, then her voice again, a bit huskier now: "Okay, Rocko, he's all yours. But the next time Kat's in town, you be sure to send her my way for some girl talk. We Rangers still share and share alike, don't we?"
"It's a deal," Rocky chuckled. "Now, give Adam the phone and help him out of his pants... quick!"